Sanctuary at the Museum
by wilddreamgirl
Summary: Acamapichtli (otherwise known as Cam) finds sanctuary in the Museum of Natural History, becoming a friend, confidant, and helper to those who reside there...he never expects the same in return. Note: Possible slight Larry-Bashing (I like him, but he's a moron)
1. Chapter 1

Acamapichtli (ah-kah-mah-PEECH-lee) = Handful of Reeds.

 _Egyptian_

 **Latin**

* * *

 **Chapter One.**

Acamapichtli looked around the museum with interest, unlike his classmates. They were here on a school trip about the History of America-A rather broad topic, but the teacher, Mr Faber, was limiting it to The Wild West, The Civil War, and the American Presidents. Cam would have found it interesting, had the old man done more than reel off dates and statistics in his monotone voice. The sort of history he was interested in was _how_ people lived, if that made sense.

His vague disinterest (he would be okay on the trip because he was recording his teacher's speech to take notes later- knowing the cranky man, he would give a quiz at some point) might also have something to do with the fact that he preferred Ancient History- The Greeks, the Romans, the Egyptians. This was inherited from his paternal Grandfather, who had been well-known in the area of Classical Studies, and, as the man had practically raised him, this had been passed down, bypassing his father, and taking firm hold in Cam.

His **Avus** had died three years ago, when Cam was ten, and, much to his father's fury and Cam's shock, he had been made heir to the family fortune, and would inherit anything and everything on his sixteenth birthday. Privately, Cam was of the opinion that his father was more angry at the fact that, according to the Will, he was to have no access to the money, not even if Cam died before him- If that was to occur, a full investigation was to be launched on his death, and the inheritance split to several charities.  
It was also the reason the teen attended the school he did. Collegiate School was a premier all-boys school in the City, and he had been in attendance for as long as he could. His future years at the school had already been paid for, and was non-negotiable, so his parents couldn't pull him out and get the money back, much to their frustration.

This was not to say that this deprived his parents of any income, however; his father had been a Lawyer with Sampson & Son for years now, and his mother was a model. Both bought in hefty incomes, which was generally negated by the fact that neither of them put a limit on how much they spent, and always went for the most expensive, most luxurious option above all. The three lived in a large house with several servants- a Cook, a personal Maid for his mother, a Valet for his father, a Butler, a Housekeeper, and a Chauffeur.  
His parents also lived in separate wings of the house- theirs had been a marriage of mutual convenience, not love. The only reason he was conceived was because his **Avus** demanded his son produce the next generation of the Charlestons. There was no love lost. Frankly, the only reason Cam had money to spend to care for himself was because $50 a month was deposited into his bank account from his inheritance. This would not dent it, as it still received profits from the investments that had been made. It would continue to grow. Regardless of his hefty allowance, money did not fall through his fingers like water as it did with his parents. Sense had been firmly drilled into him by his **Avus** , who had been a cold man to those who did not know him, and had a sharp mind.

"Alright then." The irritated voice of Mr Faber jerked Cam out of his thoughts. "It _appears_ that the coach to take us back to the school has been involved in an accident, so we are going to be staying here for a while."  
Many of the kids groaned, but Cam perked up. This gave him a chance to see the Roman Diorama and pay a respectful visit to Pharaoh Ahkmenrah. Who exactly decided that putting the dead on display needed a kick up the arse in his opinion. It was damn well disrespectful.  
Moving away from the group, stowing away his recorder, the history-loving teen passed a man in a suit and bow-tie who looked very distressed when some of his schoolmates goofed around the T-Rex- probably the Curator, then- heading towards the Hall of Miniatures.

* * *

The Hall was fairly deserted- well, it was school hours, and a weekday to top it off- when Cam got there.  
Crouching down, he examined the display he'd came to see.  
A small model of a Roman city had been built, with civilians roaming the streets and houses.  
To the left of the city, was the barracks. Lines of soldiers were set up, some looking to be performing drills. Overseeing this all was a General. Focusing on him, Cam read the small plate in front of the figure.  
 **"General Octavius."** he murmured. **"Hmm. The name is not familiar to me. However, I focus more on the culture of civilisations, not their wars, so there is good reason for that, I suppose. I shall endeavour to fix this fault in my knowledge later."** He always did when he came across anything new about his favoured cultures. **"They did a good job on the display. Wait...how did they figure to make a Roman City without a C** **oliseum? It's an integral part of Roman society from what Avus taught me."**

Standing from his crouch, Cam moved around the exhibit, noting the culture that he loved, and grimacing if he came across something wrong or noted something that was needed to make the display more lifelike.  
"Yes, yes, it's not perfect, I know."  
Spinning around at the tetchy voice, the teen came face to face with the man he had seen earlier, the Curator, if he was right.  
"Sorry, I'm a perfectionist. May I have your name, Sir?"  
"Hmm, polite." the man extended a hand, which Cam shook. "Doctor McPhee, Curator of the Museum."  
"Acamapichtli Charleston, Doctor McPhee. It's a pleasure. My name is usually shortened to Cam so as to be easier on the tongue."  
"Charleston!" the man yelped. "Are you possibly related to Tybalt Charleston?"  
"He was my **Avus**." at the confused look, he elaborated "My Grandfather."  
"I was sorry to hear of his death. I've always admired his work."  
"Thanks."  
"So you're interested in the Romans?"  
"Ancient History." Cam grinned. "Being practically raised by the great Tybalt Charleston had it's impacts. Not that I'm complaining, I had a fantastic childhood, and I love history."

"He raised you?"  
"My parents' marriage was one of convenience, and I was only conceived to provide a Heir as per **Avus's** demands."  
Cam felt no compunctions in explaining this. He had long gotten over the circumstances of his birth.  
"Oh." floundering slightly, Doctor McPhee changed the subject. "Have you visited the Pharaoh yet? I mean, being interested in Ancient History and all."  
"Paying him a visit is in my plan for the free time I've got now that our bus is delayed." he agreed.  
"Damned disrespectful, what they do with mummies." McPhee muttered with a scowl. Cam was intrigued when he saw something flicker in the man's eyes.  
"I couldn't agree more." The teen agreed with a grimace. "Even so, I shall visit to show my respect of him and his culture. I suspect...if he could hear me, it would be of great comfort for him to hear someone speaking his own tongue. Call me sentimental, but if I'm at an exhibit that's Roman, Greek, or Egyptian, I find myself speaking the language that corresponds with the exhibit."  
At the man's surprise, Cam explained that his **Avus** had raised him speaking the languages.  
"Yes." the Curator murmured, a strange tone to his voice. "I think he'll like that." Pulling himself back to wherever his mind had wandered off to, he clapped his hands and declared. "Well, I shan't keep you. It was nice to meet a fellow Historian, Master Charleston."

* * *

Cam stopped at the entrance to the Pharaohs exhibit, eyeing the two Jackal guardsmen in appreciation.  
 _"I mean your Pharaoh no harm."_ he said quietly. _"I merely wish to pay my respects, despite the disrespectful way he is treated."_ With that, the teen stepped into the exhibit, instantly recognising some of his schoolmates, who were fooling around and complaining that they couldn't actually _see_ the corpse.

"I would have thought." the well-bred teen bit out crisply "That you five would have better things to do than make fools out of yourselves. Really, what would your followers say if they caught you showing even a vague interest in History? I would think it would rather ruin your image boys."  
"Shut it Peachy." One snarled.  
"Original, really." Cam drawled, raising an eyebrow, his face slipping into the blank, cold look that all the Charlestons wore in public. Cam didn't use it very often. As it so often did, the look sent the teens scampering away from him.

 _"My apologies, Pharaoh Ahkmenrah."_ he bowed formally. _"I would have greeted you the instant I entered your room, but I thought you would prefer it if those disrespectful children left."  
_ Moving around the room, Cam stopped in front of the tablet and read the inscription. " _You will find the combination you seek if you figure out the secret at the heart of Pharaoh's tomb. Well that sounds mysterious."_

Cam moved quietly around the room, contemplating the contents of the tomb- or rather, what remained of it.

"Oi, Peachy!" a voice yelled, and the teen turned to see one of the more agreeable boys hovering nervously at the entrance, his gaze flickering from the Guards, the Pharaoh, and Cam. "C'mon, it's time to get out of here- a women's group who came here for the day have enough room on their bus for us, and are gonna drop us at school."  
"I'll be up in a moment, Bates. Thanks."  
As the teen shot away from the room- he was terrified of dead things- Cam turned to the Pharaoh and bowed.  
 _"My apologies for ending this visit so abruptly, My Pharaoh."_ he apologised. _"Fortunately I have not finished here, and so will return this weekend. My thanks for your hospitality."_

* * *

That weekend, as promised, Cam was back in the Pharaoh's exhibit, puttering around and speaking to Ahkmenrah quietly every now and then. Unfortunately, the tranquillity was interrupted by the arrival of one of his school rivals and his family.  
"White." Cam nodded cordially, for the sake of the small child tagging at the teen's side if nothing else.  
"Peachy." White sneered.

"Oh, do you know Niall?!" the woman- obviously his mother- asked excitedly, clinging to her husband's arm like a little girl.  
"I go to Collegiate Ma'am. We are rivals of a sort. Generally we tie for top spot- competition does make one work harder, I find."  
"How often does Nathan beat you?" the patriarch of the family asked smugly, clearly expecting the answer to be in his son's favour.  
"He beats me rather well in the Sciences and Mathematics, I trump him for History, RE and English, and we often tie for PE."  
"Ah, well, Science and Maths require real brains, I suppose."  
"It does depend on where you lean in your educational desires." Cam absolutely refused to rise. He'd had worse from Kathleen- his Mother.

"Daddy, m'bored." The little angelic-looking girl pouted.  
"Alright, Sweetheart, let's get out of here." the man agreed, completely ignoring Cam.  
"Good plan, Honey, being in the same room as a corpse creeps me out."

The family shuffled out, the girl rambling about ice-cream. Apparently, her favourite flavour was raspberry. Personally, Hunter liked Honeycomb, Caramel, or Mint Choc Chip.  
His watch beeped, and Cam grimaced.  
"Wonderful." Turning to the Casket, he bowed. _"Yet again, my visit is cut short,_ _Pharaoh. My apologies, but I am needed- Kathleen is being interviewed today, and is presenting herself as a loving Mother at present, so my attendance is required. Being late is not worth the fit she would throw later."_

Walking out of the room with a nod of respect to the Jackal Guards, Cam moved down a quiet hallway, and yelped when he was shoved into a small janitor's closet.  
"See ya round, Peachy." White sniggered, jamming the door firmly shut.  
Unfortunately for Cam, he stumbled over a broom on the floor, and hitting his head on a pipe, crumpled to the floor, unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

Acamapichtli (ah-kah-mah-PEECH-lee) = Handful of Reeds.

 _Egyptian_

 **Latin**

* * *

 **Chapter Two.**

Groaning, Cam shifted slightly, his eyes fluttering as he came to. White was bloody well _dead_ the next time they had PE.  
How long had he been in here? It was very quiet, he could tell that much.  
Suddenly, something thumped into the door.

His eyes widening, Cam held his breath and stayed absolutely motionless until the noise stopped.  
He had to get out of here. His instincts were screaming at him. At the same time, Logic yelled out that making any move without knowledge of _what_ exactly was out there could be suicidal.

Slowly, carefully, silently, Cam crawled to the door and, absently sweeping up a piece of plastic tubing, pressed it to the door, putting his ear to it to listen.  
This was a trick he had learnt as a child. He'd known it would be useful again someday. He just hadn't really expected a situation like _this_.  
As soon as there was silence, the teen carefully tested the door and eased it open, darting out and closing it behind him. Hearing something coming, he ducked into a small gap between a showcase and the wall and kept very still, holding his breath.  
His heart nearly stopped as _Theodore Roosevelt, on his Horse,_ clopped past.

The exhibits...that was impossible, but really, what other options were there? some sort of historical dress up convention? No, such a thing would likely be open to the public, and there had been no posters or leaflets advertising such a thing, and there was no way in Hell he could see McPhee letting a horse traipse around in here...which meant he didn't know...or his opinion simply wasn't taken into account. The latter seemed more likely.

But what could...the Tablet. Pharaoh Ahkmenrah's Tablet, that was said to hold legendary powers...Pharaoh Ahkmenrah, who, for all he knew, was still locked in his Sarcophagus.  
 _Shit_.

His thoughts flying even faster than before, Cam slunk down the hall, his senses and instincts on high alert. He _had_ to get to the Pharaoh.

* * *

Somehow, Cam managed to get to the hallway the Pharaoh was in. Warily, but respectfully, the teen moved into the sight of the Guard Statues, being careful to avoid the CCTV- something told him that the Nightguards discovering he knew about all this would be bad.  
 _"You know me."_ he pleaded in a whisper, praying to whatever Gods that might be out there that the Jackals could hear him. _"I was trapped here before the Awakening, and immediately thought of your Master. Please, I beg of you, allow me to pass so that I may reassure myself of his wellbeing."  
_ After a moment, he softly continued. _"My main problem, discounting the two of you, however, is that camera."_ carefully, he motioned to it with his head _"If it sees me, the Watchers here will know of me, and my instincts tell me that would not end well. If it does not offend, I would ask for a distraction, a way to get past without being seen."_

There was a moment of tense silence, then a deep rumbling voice- deep as the earth of a Pyramid- came from the Jackal farthest from him, though its mouth only twitched slightly. _"If we move to distract the Watchers, they will send Others to investigate, as we have only ever moved in defence of our King before. This would give you very little time with Pharaoh."  
"I understand."_ Cam replied in a whisper. _"I will take what I can get."_

The two statues exploded into action, one moving to the middle of the doorway to provide better protection, whilst the other stalked over to the camera and ripped it from the wall with a snarl.  
The instant the camera was off-lined, the teen was past the guards and in the Pharaoh's room.

Cam froze in utter shock and horror as he stared, transfixed, at the shaking, screaming Casket. Shaking off the shock of seeing the clearly imprisoned Pharaoh, he rushed to the Sarcophagus.  
 _"My King, please, stop!"_ he begged, pressing his hands to the face on the Casket, which stopped shaking at his voice. _"Do you remember me? I am_ _Acamapichtli Charleston, and I visited you earlier. I will try to free you, but please, do not thrash about so; you could cause yourself serious harm."_  
 _"Let me_ _out!"_ came the desperate plea. _"I cannot take it!"  
_ _"I_ _cannot."_ Cam groaned ashamedly as he examined the modern locks holding the casket closed. _"However"_ he hastened to add at the choked moan from the Pharaoh _"I will return tomorrow with the tools necessary to free_ you." he paused _"A question, if you will, Lord Pharaoh. Why have your Guards not freed you?"  
_ _"They cannot."_ came the heavy reply. _"They were made to protect me and kill those wishing to defile my Tomb. Opening my_ _Sarcophagus would count as defiling my Tomb and ruining my resting place."_

 _"Little Servant, Others come!"_ came the call from a Jackal, and Cam cursed.  
 _"You must leave."_ Ahkmenrah forced out. _"The Nightguards will kill you if you are caught."  
_ _"I'll be back tomorrow night."_ was all Cam could say before the Jackals snarled and moved, nearly cutting the model of Roosevelt and the horse in two with their spears.

Knowing he couldn't get out that way, the teen launched himself at the wall, smashing the window with his shoulder, ignoring the glass that cut him and embedded into his shoulder, and slipped into the night.


	3. Chapter 3

Acamapichtli (ah-kah-mah-PEECH-lee) = Handful of Reeds.

 _"Egyptian"_

 **"Latin"**

 _'Thoughts'_

* * *

 **Chapter Three.**

 _'Thank God it's a Sunday.'_ Cam thought as he rolled out of bed, regardless of the fact that he hadn't got much sleep after his escapades the other night. _'That leaves the entire day to work out my plan for tonight.'_  
The teen opened his wardrobe as there was a knock on the door- a familiar, bland knock. Though _how_ a knock could be bland, he honestly couldn't explain.

"Yes, Peterson?" he called, quickly grabbing a lightweight shirt that wouldn't aggravate his shoulder and a pair of grey slacks before moving to underthings.  
"Breakfast will commence presently, Sir. Your Mother is demanding your presence."  
"I will be down shortly."  
"Of course, Sir."

 _'Fuck.'_ Cam snarled to himself. _'Thanks to White, I missed the Meeting with the Press. She'll be out for blood.'_

"WHERE WERE YOU!" Kathleen screamed the instant he stepped into the dining room. "Thanks to you, I had to cancel that press meeting to play my part as a worried, loving mother- which took _months_ to set up, I'll have you know- How dare you leave me hanging like that!"  
"One of my schoolmates caused me problems at the Museum that had to be resolved." Came the emotionless reply from the teen as he sat down and helped himself to bacon and toast to make a sandwich, and filled a side bowl with fruit. "I had no intentions of missing the meeting, but it was unavoidable."  
"You're grounded." she spat spitefully. "For a week."  
"Not tonight. I have a dinner set up with Rosemary." came the quick lie, and the smirk at the flinch the casual use of that name brought.

Rosemary was his **Avus's** Lawyer, and, according to the terms of his Will, had as many meetings with Cam per month as she thought necessary to check on the teen's wellbeing. His parents absolutely despised the warm-but-icy-businesswoman who didn't give them any slack as they'd hoped she would. Much to her private amusement. Cam used her as a get-out-of-jail-free card when he needed to get away on occasion.  
On a more personal note, Kathleen hated Rosemary because, though- from the Model's perspective- she was blander than her, the Lawyer had a warmth and magnetism that drew people to her, whereas she, a top Model, did not. His father hated her for the fact that she refused his- to him debonair, but to her clumsy and unremarkable- advances and looks.

"What are you squalling about now, woman?" Nathaniel Charleston drawled irritably as he strode to his seat, unsurprisingly, already drinking. How the man kept his Alcoholism hidden when working, Cam would never know.  
"The Boy's grounded, starting tomorrow." Kathleen spat out, wrinkling her nose in disgust at her husband.  
"Why not today?" came the enquiry as Peterson moved to refill the man's glass.  
"Lee." she bit out Rosemary's surname as if it were poison. For once united, the two shared a grimace over the table.  
"Stupid Bitch." Nathaniel grumbled.  
"Would you like me to offer your assessment of Rosemary to her, Father?" Cam shot icily.

"Don't you dare." his Father snarled. "You've eaten your food. Get out of my sight."  
"It will be a pleasure, Father." Cam returned coolly, pushing back his chair and leaving before one of them thought about changing or refuting the order- they were very flighty in their decisions, so such a thing wouldn't be a shock.

* * *

Back in his room, Cam booted up his laptop. If he was going to break into the Museum to free the Pharaoh from his own Tomb, then he needed a plan. And plans, as his **Avus** had always made a point to remind him, required information to work. So: The Night Guards, the Exhibits, a plan of the building and security systems (if he could get it), and maybe...some inside help.  
Bringing up the Museum website, the teen began to research.

Cam struck gold when he found, tucked away on the site, a number that would connect him to McPhee. Grinning, the teen scribbled down the number and continued on, trawling through the Internet for anything and anything they could get.  
 _'Oh, fantastic, the Huns are an exhibit.'_ came the sarcastic thought, along with a grimace. _'This is going to be Fun.'_

* * *

"Hello, May I help you?" a chirpy male voice came down Cam's mobile.  
"Yes, could you put me through to Doctor McPhee please?"  
"Who shall I say is calling?"  
"Charleston. We spoke yesterday, about my Grandfather? I have some business to discuss with him...Ancient History."  
"Please hold while I confirm."

The line went quiet, and Cam leaned back in the cafe chair he was occupying.  
"...Charleston?" at the hesitant greeting, the teen returned his attention to the phone at his ear.  
"Doctor." Cam paused, wondering how to phrase this in a way that wouldn't give his purpose away to possible listeners (So sue him, he was paranoid) "I'm calling about a mutual acquaintance of ours. I met him last night, and it's come to my attention that he's a little... _trapped_ at present."  
"A...mutual acquaintance...trapped?" The waver in the Doctor's voice told him that the man had at least put that together, likely using his reason for calling as a linking piece.

"Yes, and...I need help. I can release him, but the main obstacle is getting to him...I unfortunately drew attention to myself last night, so They will be expecting something." Cam paused, sensing McPhee needed a push. "He told me to run, Sir. That they'd kill me if I was caught, but...I will _not_ abandon him."  
"What do you need?" the determination in the small man shocked them both.  
"A floor plan, details of the security system. Information on Them." Cam reeled off quickly. "I have information on the Others, but any inside information would be greatly appreciated, Sir."  
"When by?"  
"Tonight. Please. Send it to me by Lennox Hill, E 67th Street, Apartment 18." (Rosemary's address. She was accustomed to getting mail for him that the teen did not want his parents to get their hands on.)

* * *

"Cam Charleston, what are you up to now?" Rosemary teased the too-serious teen on her doorstep, inviting him in. "About an hour ago, a courier came by with a thick package addressed to you."  
"Rose, I swear, I'd tell you, but, it's not safe right now." Cam swore quietly.  
"You're serious." the lawyer blinked. "You tell me instantly if you get in over your head."

This was why she was like a sister to him, Cam thought. Rose trusted him, let him do what he wanted, but was always ready to leap to his side and provide support however it was needed.  
"Thanks Rose." Cam hugged her as he took the parcel and slipped it into his backpack. "Oh, if Mother or Father send one of their Lackeys over, remember, we've a dinner planned tonight."  
Rose laughed. "I do. I don't know about you, but sure, I'll cover for you."  
"Thanks."  
"Alright, get going!" the woman shooed him out the door, snickering at the wounded look he sent her.

* * *

 _'Right.'_ Cam thought determinedly. _'Let's get down to business then._ _'_ With that thought, the teenager began to plan The Breakout, as he was calling it.

* * *

The weakest spot in the building's security was a rickety old fire escape on the right wall. As far as McPhee knew, the alarm system connected to it was broken and had never been replaced. Even better, the area was mainly used for storage, which was a main reason why it hadn't been fixed.  
The only difficulty was that the Nightguard's office was on the same hall, and Cam would have to pass by the door on his route to the Pharaoh.

Scrambling up the fire escape, Cam eased open the rusty door as quietly as he could, then crept down the hall.

"You guys shouldn't be here."  
Cam froze. He was just by the doorway to the office, waiting for a chance to slip past.  
"Give us the tablet, son."  
 _'Shit, the Tablet? What's going on?'_  
"Wait a minute, Nicky. What are you guys doing?" ' _A man. One of the Nightguards- probably the newest...and that was something confusing. Why the new one?_  
"We're not gonna hurt you. Give us the tablet. I'm sorry to tell you this, son, but your dad doesn't work here. He got fired this morning. Couldn't hack it."  
 _'Liar. McPhee would have mentioned that. And Dad? seriously? This...has been kept a secret for years, and one man will likely blow it with his son. Oh yeah, let's also remember the exhibits you really shouldn't have around kids when they can move.'  
_

"Dad? I thought you said you weren't fired." _'The son. Who clearly has the Tablet.'_  
"I did. They're lying, trying to steal that thing." _'Of course! The new Guard's their scapegoat!'_ "Turn the middle piece, you'll see what I was talking about." _'Yes, please do.'_  
"That is museum property, son. Give it back." _'Don't Kid.'  
_ "Nicky, trust me. Just turn it."  
"Give us the tablet!" _'Guard again.'  
_ "Nicky? Trust me."

Clearly, despite everything, the Kid did, as a roar _'The Rex'_ sounded through the Museum, and, in the resulting shockwave and distraction, Cam took the chance to dart past. Free Ahkmenrah, and then get the Tablet. That was the new plan.  
He started as another kid shot out with him.

"What-" the kid gasped, clutching the Tablet.  
"Move. Now." Cam, thinking fast, pulled him along. "They catch us, we're dead. Got that?"  
"Dad-" the kid was clearly torn.  
"Is on his own. We need to get to the Pharaoh."  
"Why?" the kid panted as they sped down the hall.  
"His Tablet. Also, big Jackal guards. Plus, he's why I'm here."  
"What-"  
"He's locked in his own Sarcophagus." Cam snapped. "Wonder why? If he's free, those goons don't stand a chance of stealing the Tablet. I'm freeing him."

A call down the hall froze the two in their tracks.  
"Nicky, if you don't want to lose your Dad, I'd stop right there. You too boy."  
"Damn it all to Hell." Cam swore, stopping in his tracks. As much as freeing the Pharaoh was his priority, Cam wouldn't allow them to murder someone.

* * *

"Just in time, Larry. We were just locking up." The leader of the three Guards- Cecil, Cam thought- jibed as the three were shoved into the Pharaoh's exhibit and locked in.  
Internally, Cam was very pleased with this turn of events. Now he could free Ahkmenrah, and then, somehow, help the man re-acquire his Tablet.  
"Let's grab everything we can fence." one of the Guards suggested as they walked away, sniggering.

The Jackals sprang to life the same instant Pharaoh Ahkmenrah did. Fortunately, they recognised Cam and let him be, focusing on the Guard and his son.  
Darting to the Sarcophagus, Cam pulled out his lockpicks.  
 _"My Pharaoh, be still, please."_ he begged, and, as the Casket stilled, began to pick the locks holding it shut, ignoring the cries of terror behind him. Absently, he noticed that one Jackal had the Guard dangling in the air by his leg.

"Hey!" the Guard cried in shock as he saw what Cam was doing. "What-"  
He was cut short as, with a triumphant shout, Cam released the second lock and pushed the Casket open. Instantly, Pharaoh Ahkmenrah bolted upright, gasping.

Despite everything, the Guard did seem to be a fairly quick thinker- or maybe it was because his son was currently pinned to the wall by the other Jackal- so he shouted to the Pharaoh "Hey. Hi. How you doing? Sorry to bother you...but your guys there? Your jackal guys? Do you think you could ask them to back off, please? We're not trying to hurt you, they think we are. Could you do it like now?"

Much to their surprise, the Pharaoh's head snapped around, and, apparently assessing the situation, barked out _"STAND DOWN! These two are of no threat to me, and one is a Child!"  
"One of them is a moron who brought his child into a dangerous situation."_ Cam couldn't help but quip as he sat back. The two Jackals released the father and son and turned to Cam.  
 _"You kept your word."_ one rumbled.  
 _"I never break my word. Even if I had not sworn so, I would have freed the King, as this situation was in desperate need of correction."_ Cam informed the Jackal absently as he helped the Pharaoh out of his Sarcophagus.

"What language is that?" the kid asked, getting over his fear quickly, but not moving.  
"Egyptian, of course. To be more precise, Ancient Egyptian."

A gasp from the Guard had the two joining him in looking on in shock as the Pharaoh removed the bandages on his face, coughing slightly to get dust out of his lungs. "You would not believe how stuffy it is in there." Ahkmenrah informed them seriously. Cam couldn't quite stifle his snort, gaining a light smile from the King.  
"How come you speak English?" Larry asked as the newly released man explored the room, wide eyed.  
"I went to Cambridge University. I was on display in the Egyptology Department."  
"Explains the accent." Cam noted.

Turning, The Pharaoh formally introduced himself. "I am Ahkmenrah, Fourth King of the Fourth King... Ruler of the Land of my Fathers."  
 _"I am Acamapichtli, Heir to the Charleston Family. It is a greater honour than can be expressed to be in Your presence, My Lord Pharaoh."_ Cam bowed low.  
"I am Larry... son of Milton... and this is my son, Nick. And we hail from Brooklyn. Well, I do. I mean, he comes out and stays with me on Wednesdays... and every other weekend. That was the custody agreement that we had."  
Cam winced at the bumbling greeting, but thankfully Pharaoh Ahkmenrah was not offended.  
"Acamapichtli, and Larry, Nick, guardians of Brooklyn... I am forever in your debt. Now bestow the tablet upon me... so that I may assume command of my Kingdom." here he held out his arms, clearly expecting his Tablet.

Glaring at Larry, to shut him up before he could blunder, Cam stepped forward and bowed down. Ahkmenrah's expression changed as he realised something was very wrong.  
 _"My Lord Pharaoh, your Tablet has been stolen by the other Nightguards. I attempted to keep it safe, but my attempt failed miserably. I failed you, My Lord, and for that I am deeply grieved."  
_ _"Though this is indeed terrible news, I honestly fail to see how the fault lies with you."_ came the gentle reprimand as the Pharaoh helped him to his feet. _"And, though you honour me, I am neither your Lord, nor your Pharaoh. Please address me by my name. My Mother shortened it to Ahk. It is far easier on the tongue, do you not think?"_

"Now." Ahk switched to English, smiling in a faintly dangerous manner. "Before we see my Tablet returned, I would be clothed."

* * *

The gates to the Egyptology department crumbled beneath the stone thrown by one of Ahk's Guards.  
 _"Stay."_ Ahk ordered his Jackals. _"If I am in need of assistance, I shall summon you. For now, do your duty and guard my Sarcophagus."  
_ _"As Pharaoh commands."_ came the reply, and the two bowed.

"We'll need help." The guard, Larry, said as the small group hurried along. "The other exhibits-"  
"Though I concede the point, I don't trust them." Cam snapped. "They could've banded together- or gone solo- and freed Ahk."  
"C'mon." Larry reasoned. "Most were locked up before they woke. There wasn't much they could do. Especially with the Jackal guys."  
"Larry has the right of it there." Ahk interjected. "It is indeed fortunate that you were, somehow, here overnight, Acamapichtli."

"Dude, your name is really difficult." Nicky informed the teen.  
"Most people tend to shorten it to Cam."  
"Can I?"  
"I have no objection to it."

"What in God's name-"  
Roosevelt was at the end of the hallway, staring at the freed Pharaoh in shock.  
"Oh, Hey, no, Teddy, Ahk- they- Cecil and the others lied. There was no curse. They just wanted to keep him locked up."  
"They have also stolen the Tablet, and intend to frame Daley over there." Cam interjected, jerking his head towards the man in question.

"Oh, dear."  
"If the Tablet is not returned, we will all die." Ahk informed the President with all due seriousness. "Please, help us gather the Museum's inhabitants. We need a plan."  
"We can use the intercom to call everyone." Nicky suggested.  
"Yeah, good idea Nicky!" Larry quickly led the way to the front desk, pressing the intercom. "Attention everyone...uh, we have a really bad situation...like, you'll all die if we don't fix it sort of situation, so can everyone get down to the front desk to work out a plan?"

Almost instantly, the hall was packed to the brim with exhibits, all yelling, and shouting. Some were even screaming. Unfortunately, Larry's skills clearly did not lie with crowd control.  
"All right! I need everybody to listen up! Guys! Come on!"  
"QUIET!" a new voice boomed, and, in the ensuing silence, everyone stared at the Easter Island Head. "My dum-dum want to speak."

"Larry, perhaps I should take it from here." Without waiting for an answer, Cam pushed ahead in giving an explanation to the worried Museum inhabitants.  
"Firstly, many of you are panicking about Pharaoh Ahkmenrah's presence, correct? There is no curse upon his Tomb- I can read and write fluent Egyptian, so I should know. The Nightguards- not including Daley- wanted him locked up so they could steal his Tablet, and some other items. We need to find the Guards and the Tablet, and get it back to the Museum before sunrise, or you'll all die."

Here, Larry cut in again, clearly irritated at the teen taking command.  
"Civil War guys, head over to the Planetarium Wing. My explorer friend whose name escapes me-"  
"It's Columbus." Cam rolled his eyes.  
"-Right, Columbus! Right, I'm sorry. There's no nameplate, so... Columbus, take the Neanderthals... ...and do a sweep from Invertebrates all the way through Reptiles. Jed and Octavius, their van's parked out back. Go take care of it."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, no! No, sir. I ain't working with toga boy." came the immediate protestation from the leader of the Cowboys.  
"Romans work alone." came the grumble from General Octavius. Cam raised an eyebrow.  
 **"Lord General, that is a grossly untrue statement that shames you as a General of the Roman Empire."**  
Octavius was stunned at his native language from the boy in equal measure to his words.  
 **"What-"** he spluttered. **"How dare you!"  
** **"I dare, General, because I speak truth. The power of Rome was not built by one Roman alone, was it? Do you expect your men to fight alone?"  
** **"Never!"  
** **"Then are you willing to put your Pride to one side and fight for the lives of your people? Or will you allow old grudges and prejudices to destroy the life that has been built here?"  
** **"You have spoken well."** Octavius nodded, conceding the boy's words, before turning to his army. **"This night we put our battle with the Westerners aside to fight for our lives! Hail to the Empire!"  
** **"Hail!"** came the resounding cry in return.

"Jed, Octavius." Larry cut in. "Take away the fact you were born 2000 years apart... you guys aren't that different. You're both great leaders. You just want what's best for your people, right?"  
"Yeah." Jed conceded with a grumble.  
"Yeah." Octavius nodded, glancing at Cam, then at Jed.

Larry then turned to the Civil War mannequins. "Civil War dudes. You guys are brothers, for God's sakes. You gotta stop fighting. North wins-" there were grumbles and small cheers from either side- "Slavery's bad. Sorry. Don't wanna burst your bubble. But, South, you guys get Allman Brothers... and NASCAR, so just chill!"

"Look." Cam cut in. "Tonight can't be about rivalries, or petty disputes. This...is about the Museum. The lives you have here. Without the Tablet, you lose that. Are you going to let those damn traitors to the Museum go unpunished? Are you going to let them win?"  
"NO!" came the roar.  
"Then move out! You have your orders! Go!"

"You are a fine leader, Cam." Ahk praised.  
" **Avus** was. I am not. I merely use what he taught me."  
" **Avus**?" Ahk repeated the term, faintly confused.  
"It is Latin- the same language in which I spoke to Octavius- for Grandfather."

* * *

Listening to the mission undertaken by the Miniatures, despite the situation, had to be one of the funniest things Cam had heard in a long time. Much to his embarrassment, the teen found himself, short for breath due to laughing, leaning on an equally incapacitated Ahk. He did, however, pull himself together enough to apologise to an indignant Jed and Octavius.

When it came to freeing Sacagawea to track the van, and her rescue by Roosevelt, Cam could only watch as Ahk, Nicky and Daley went after Cecil, focused on racing back inside to find a lighter or two so that the President could be fused back together before sun-up.

Getting everyone back into the Museum and to their exhibits was an arduous process that was only just finished in time.  
Striding out of Ahk's tomb, Cam turned to Daley.  
"I will be here most nights from now on." It was not in any way a suggestion.  
"Wha- But-"  
"Am I supposed to believe you will stop your son from coming? I speak Ancient Egyptian and Latin. The Jackals listen to me, to an extent. I can speak to Ahk and the Romans in their own tongue. Try and block me and I will take this straight to Doctor McPhee. And yes, he knows. How do you think I knew how to get in? You have a week to get used to this, as my harridan of a Mother has seen fit to ground me for something beyond my control."  
Daley spluttered some more. "You could get me into trouble!"  
"So could your son." came the flat reply.  
"Nicky wouldn't-"  
"Not intentionally, no, but unintentionally?" The raised eyebrow and otherwise flat expression along with his statement finally shut the man up.

Walking away from the stunned man, Cam pulled out his phone and dialled the number he had memorised earlier.  
"Hello?"  
"Doctor McPhee? I was successful in freeing the Pharaoh, and Daley, the other exhibits and I, managed to stop the other Night Guards from stealing from the Museum and framing Daley."  
"Oh...well, you've been busy." McPhee managed.  
"Yes, Sir. Oh, speaking of Daley and Night Guards, is it possible to include some sort of Non Disclosure Agreement in the contracts for the Night Guards?"  
"An NDA...that's...actually, an excellent idea. Thank you Mr Charleston."  
"I can have a Lawyer I trust with everything contact you, if you wish. She is incredibly competent."  
"No need, I have my own."  
"Is it from Sampson & Son, then don't use them. My Father works there- I would not trust anyone he could possibly get any information out of. They will also attempt to bleed you dry as their rates are extortionate."  
"Fortunately" came the faintly sarcastic response "he is not. I trust my cousin, thanks."  
"Then you have far more faith in your family than I."

Finishing his call, Cam slipped out of the Museum and made his way home, content, his mind suggesting and discarding plans at a quick rate. After all, he couldn't let White's behaviour stand.


End file.
